Rick Hill is the Valero Alamo Bowl’s VP of Marketing and Communications. Prior to the bowl, Rick spent 6 years working for the Spurs, one season with Missions Baseball and two fruitless months trying to sell season tickets for the S.A. Riders.

Note: This is an mySA.com City Brights Blog. These blogs are not written or edited by mySA or the San Antonio Express-News. The authors are solely responsible for the content.

My Thanks to McAllister Park and Little League Baseball

When the McAllister Park All-Stars land at San Antonio International Airport tonight after their amazing Little League World Series run, I hope the celebration goes late into the night so the players, coaches and parents receive all of the accolades they so richly deserve. I can’t imagine being more proud of the way this group represented San Antonio playing the game with both talent and sportsmanship.

While I never played on as big a stage as McAllister Park, my Little League team won my home state of Missouri before losing to a team from Kentucky in the regionals. My days playing Little League are some of the best memories I have growing up.

Luckily, I had the opportunity to play baseball in college and have for the last 15 years played in adult baseball leagues in San Antonio. Watching McAllister Park on television brought back a steady flow of memories from both my Little League days as well as those from more recent seasons so I contrasted the two below.

Then: Played on an elite traveling team that had home and away jerseys and hats with matching shoes, jackets and bags.

Now: Have maroon uniforms with bright yellow hats and yellow stirrups because “that color yellow was on special.” We’re only needing red noses and big shoes to lock down Ringling Brothers as a sponsor.

Then: Batted with an Easton “Black Magic” bat that cost $79.

Now: Bat with an Easton “Stealth” composite bat that cost $299. It’s a lot of money for a bat but the technological advances in the bat helps make up for my deteriorating baseball skills.

Then: As a lefty, I loved hitting opposite field line drives so the ball was in my view as I rounded first deciding whether or not to stretch the hit into extra bases.

Now: I am forced to hit to the opposite field because I am afraid I’ll be thrown out at first by the right fielder.

Then: Wore braces on my teeth.

Now: Wear braces on my back, knees, elbow and ankles.

Then: Stands packed with parents rooting on their children.

Now: Empty stands with a couple of player’s kids running around.

Then: I hated to be taken out of games because of pitch counts.

Now: I hate my manager because I can’t sit out an inning or two when only 9 guys show up and its 104 degrees outside.

Then: I was the second slowest player on the team. After winning state, our coach sent in player bios to a company that created vanity radio broadcasts of your Little League team playing against the Kansas City Royals in the World Series. By clicking here, you can hear my “fantasy at-bat” where the announcer mocks my lack of speed and seriousness. I remember thinking how it sucks that I can’t even be fast in make-believe games.

Now: I’m still the second slowest player on the team as opposing teams frequently greet my at-bats by announcing “slow runner, let’s turn two.”

Then: Could snap off a wicked overhand curveball.

Now: That snapping sound is my shoulder.

Then: Was able to play every inning of a double-header and still have enough energy for the Peter Piper Pizza ball-pit afterwards.

Now: Get winded putting my cleats on.

Then: Celebrated a 5-3 lead in the state championship game by foolishly bowing to peer pressure and sampling some Skoal Bandit chewless tobacco during the last inning. With the winning run on first and two outs, a high pop-up was hit right to me. Buzzing from the first dip of my life, I stumbled to the left, caught my balance and willed the ball into my glove while simultaneously knocking off my hat and falling to the ground.

Now: I have never sampled chewing tobacco again so I have no excuse as to why I still catch pop-ups that way.

Then: Line up as a team at the snack shop for ice cold Coke slushes after victories.

Now: Line up as a team at the shortstop’s truck for ice cold adult beverages after victories.

While watching McAllister Park made me jealous of the days when it wasn’t so much work to coax a couple innings of production out of my body, it also made me appreciate the game I still get to play every summer.

Just like when I was growing up, I still can’t wait to get to the ballpark so I can warm-up with the same Rawlings Keith Hernandez model first basemen’s mitt I’ve had since 1982. I also still get the same butterflies in the on-deck circle before my first at-bat and live for the times I hit the ball square on the barrel. The ball may not go as far, but it’s still one of the greatest feelings. And as important, I get to play with a group of guys who would make Coach Shull proud as we spend a good part of each game smiling ear-to-ear.